Antoine Dodson: Monster Hunter

As I strive to become a better writer, and attempt to maximize my craft, I am going to be exploring different genres and I realize that some of you might expect Kevin stories, or true tales from my life. I love writing those so I won't stop. However I hope that you enjoy the different paths I take in my stories.
 Don't forget your comments help.


The Sun casts an array of orange and pink highlights on the skyline, I stretched and rose from my bed.
I had work to do.
The monsters of my youth had become real and I had a responsibility to protect the weak.
I wasn't always a protector, when I first discovered that vampires, werewolves, witches and zombies shared our world I too was afraid.
 I just have never been able to give up without a fight.
I assemble my tools.
 My trusty .50 revolvers, sit on my hips, loaded with sterling silver bullets and my own personal mix of silver nitrate, gun powder and an explosive spell.
 I love the way that even a leg or arm shot blows the critters apart.
My folding compound bow, silver and iron katanas, and my trusty Kalashnikov, round out my artillery.
Most of my kills now come from a distance.
 The monsters have begun to fear me, and will slide into hiding at the barest mention of my name.
People say that I am not supposed to be able to go toe to toe with werewolves or vampires, but I have and I do.
In fact I live for it.
 If there is no real danger that I might die, what's the point right?
I don't remember being able to pull someone's head off before the monsters came, but I can now and I revel in it.
I delight in stuffing iron pennies into the gullet of some bloated child eating witch and watching as they burn from the inside out.
I used to have a wife and beautiful children who screamed "Welcome home!" When I walked through the door.
My job as a security guard hadn't paid a lot, but we were doing okay.
 I paid my mortgage, mostly on time, and the lease on my wife's car.
 I was able to keep my twenty-four year old Chevy Silverado running, I knew what to expect.
Until one day I came home and a pack of wolves were feasting on my family.
 I lost it.
My wife's hips were splayed in an indecent fashion and an Alpha male was using my daughter's bones to remove bits of my newborn from between his teeth.
I discovered my new strength that day and I recall tearing that Alphas heart from his chest.
Even as I ripped ribs from his big torso with a satisfying cracking noise, and shoved one of the bone shards into his beta's brain I knew my thirst for the death of these creatures would not abate.
Others flocked to My mission and unless I hide from them regular humans always want to accompany me on the hunt.
Only one of them ever  has succeeded and returned for a second time.
 He limps and never speaks.
 He is strong and brave, and pursues leeches as if he is in tune to their souls or lack thereof.
Antoine Dodson monster Hunter.
 I don't know when my mute fellow hunter has had time to make business cards but he will hand one of the bloody ichor encrusted cards to the humans we rescue sometimes.
I had overheard that a coven of witches has moved into Dunwoody.
 Mr. Dodson and I have work to do.
The night calls and the mute, and I answer.